Awakened
by Blondiiee
Summary: You can't undo something that's happened; you can't take back a word that's already been said out loud. You ever think something and wish that you had been able to say it out loud. What if Lucas hadn't gone back into the school for Peyton on the day of the shooting? *HIATUS.*
1. Chapter 1

_we don't change the direction we are headed, we will end up where we are going._

 _-CHINESE PROVERB_

 _By the time you read this, I hope to be dead._

 _You can't undo something that's happened; you can't take back a word that's already been said out loud. You'll think about me and wish that you had been able to talk me out of this. You'll try to figure out what would have been the one right thing to say, to do. I guess I should tell you, Don't blame yourself; this isn't your fault, but that would be a lie. We both know that I didn't get here by myself._

 _You'll cry, at my funeral. You'll say it didn't have to be this way. You will act like everyone expects you to. But will you miss me?_

 _More importantly-will I miss you?_

 _Does either one of us really want to hear the answer to that question?_

March 6, 2007

In nineteen minutes, you can mow the front lawn, color your hair, watch a third of a hockey game. In nineteen minutes, you can bake cookies or get a tooth filled by a dentist; you can fold laundry for a family of five.

Nineteen minutes is how long it took the Tennessee Titans to sell out of tickets to the play-offs. It's the length of a sitcom, minus the commercials. It's the driving distance from the Tree Hill to the town of Charleston, North Carolina.

In nineteen minutes, you can order a pizza and get it delivered. You can read a story to a child or have your oil changed. You can walk a mile. You can sew a hem.

In nineteen minutes, you can stop the world, or you can just jump off it.

In nineteen minutes, you can get revenge.

It took nineteen minutes for Jimmy Edwards to fire a pistol and for Peyton Sawyer to be left mortally wounded bleeding out in the school corridor...alone.

So we shall start this story as it begun:

The start to the day had been fairly normal in the eyes of Peyton Sawyer, nothing more, nothing less. The usual routine, jocks goofing around at lockers, cheerleaders figuring out what their next routine would be. Peyton walks among these superficial dilenquents whose biggest problems are the sizes of their egos as well as their self obsessiveness.

From what she already knows her best friend of ten years Brooke Davis will be catching a ride with Lucas Scott.

 ** _Lucas Scott_** the boy she has been in love with for the better part of the year, it isn't like she hates seeing her best friend happy and in love but it doesn't make the pain hurt any less. It is like being smothered by an enormous pillow and unable to scream at the perpetrator to stop.

Just stop so that she could at least breath the one breath that would keep her alive.

Pushing the thought to the back of her mind, she adjusts the strap of her messenger bag farther up her shoulder and walks at a steady pace towards where she can see the blue tint of her locker. Just behind the glass doors.

It feels to her as though she is just a shell of herself watching her body go through the motions of just walking. But when she glances up the sigh that she is about to let out gets stuck right in the walls of her throat. She smiles at first because it's Luke's friend and he has always been pretty cool from what she can recall, but when she takes note of the state of him it quickly dissolved into what can only be deemed as confusion.

Her heart instantly starts to race, causing a glow of cold sweat to form across her forehead.

There practically standing right in front of her is Jimmy Edwards, a pinch to his brows and biting his lip so hard that she starts to think that it might bleed. His shaking like hell, his skin almost blue with physical illness. Pupils black with an emotion she can't quite place but it distinctively resembles fear.

With one look at him she can tell that he doesn't want to be there. But it seems that her focus hasn't been completed garnered until she hears a unmistakable sound of a gunshot ringing out and stealing away any sense of normalcy about the day.

Shots fire…at least three more shots. Loud enough to send her ears ringing.

And she has no idea what is happening at first, just knows that the glass door that she was just standing behind is in jagged glassy remnants on the floor beneath her.

She would've moved if she could, she swore that she would've.

Chaos was a constellation of students, running out of the school and trampling one another. A boy holding a handmade sign in an upstairs window that read help us. Two girls hugging each other and sobbing. Chaos was blood melting red on the concrete; it was the drip of parents that turned into a stream and then a raging river, screaming out the names of their missing children. Chaos was a TV camera in your face, not enough ambulances, not enough officers, and no plan for how to react when the world as you knew it went to pieces.

Adrenaline pulses through her, making the edges of her vision swim and her senses more acute. She tries in vain to move again with baited breaths, when a burning sensation begins to blaze from four spots on her body.

Her shoulder.

Two spots on her stomach

And her thigh.

Green eyes wide with terror her eyes slowly travel down to the four spots that are soaking her denim jeans and white top rapidly with hot red. And she crumples in a heap onto the hard floor.

And that's when the pain really kicked in.

She would love to be able to tell herself that it is just glass. Glass in various places all over her weak body, but even that is just wistful thinking. Even for her.

A horrible gurgling noise sounds in her ears and she realized it is coming from her. She is shivering hard and the pain is so unbearable that she finds herself praying for death. An all new bloom of sweat begins to break out down her back and on her forehead.

She can feel her lungs beginning to squeeze, and her breaths are starting to come in agonizingly painful and terribly short gasps. Every breath she swears is a knife turning inside her. A violent cough rattles through her and it sends specks of blood seeping from her parched lips.

And in that moment she begins to accept that this is truly going to be the end for her.

LPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPLP

Lucas sits at a red light in his ruby red mustang, waiting to turn onto the highway. Beside him in the passenger seat sits his perky girlfriend Brooke Davis, who is in more than a huff at him due to another heated discussion about Peyton.

He can distantly hear her talking to him yet something on the radio causes his ears to prick up drowning her out completely.

He fiddles with the volume button of the dispatch radio just in time to hear...

"Breaking news all hell has seemed to break loose at Tree Hill High School, a mass shooting at the school has broken out, it is unclear if there are any survivors at this point but teachers and officers of the law have made quick work in getting as many students to safety as possible. The shooter has appeared to be holding hostages inside the building and it is still unclear as if anyone is alive or dead"

The light turned green, but Lucas doesn't move. It is as though he is paralysed by his own panic and terror.

Lucas doubles up, gasping, as a horrible feeling of ice cold fear washes over him. He throws out a hand to steady himself, and a wave of nausea breaks over him as he sees his skin turning from a light tan brown to pale. His eyes start to blur with the remnants of tears, but he won't let them fall he doesn't know for sure yet. And his not sure he wants to.

He grips the stearing wheel so hard that his knuckles feel like they're catching fire.

As one thought and one thought alone screams in his mind, richocheting through his body in unison.

PEYTON.

Brooke's voice becomes even more of a blur in the background, he doesn't have a clue what she's saying just knows that she is as frantic as he was.

Lucas turns his silvery blue eyes towards Brooke, who squirms. His throat suddenly feeling very dry.

"Where's Peyton Brooke?" He all but blurts out and if it was under any normal circumstance he is sure his jealous girlfriend would normally be halfway through taking his head off. But now isn't the time.

He watches as droplets begin to make their way down her ghostly face, identical to the shade he is now.

"...At school" she whispers hoarsely.

That is all he needs to hear.

Before he can even fathom what his doing his body is doing the job for him and the small car flies swiftly down the busy streets in the direction of Tree Hill High. It is only a matter of time before they make it, Lucas pulls halfway onto the sidewalk opposite school, the fires of adrenaline blazing like a phoenix through his blood stream.

He could make craters in the concrete at the pace he is going, hell he half expected there to be smoke and skid marks. He must look crazy, arms flailing wildly and literally red in the face. He runs until he comes across someone familiar.

Haley.

Her eyes are swollen and bloodshot from tears, her nose much resembling that of the infamous Ruldolph the reindeer. No doubt a huge reflection of how he looks.

She launches herself into him, clinging to him for dear life and he can barely understand her through her muffled words. He pulls away holding her by her shoulders at arms length. His eyes pleading with her to shed some information about Peyton's where abouts and come to think of it...

Where the hell is his brother?

"Haley..w-what happened, where's Nathan...where's Peyton?" He find himself wondering out loud and whispering the last part due to not being able to conceive such a thought of the fact that Peyton could very well be dead.

He prays in vain that she is just one of the hostages, scared but untouched alongside his younger brother. But the little voice in the back of his head tells him that it's a long shot indeed and that's when alarm bells start going of in his head.

He refuses to let it dawn on him, there is absolutely no way that Peyton Sawyer is dead. Haley's eyes are far off.

Haunted.

Shocked.

Probably both if he is being honest with himself.

He can't blame her for not being able to talk sense in this moment, a situation like this is enough to fuck up the best of people.

But it doesn't stop the will to get her to tell him from kicking in and he finds himself demanded her for answers, he grips her shoulders quite violently in an almost bruising grip.

"DAMMIT HALEY TELL ME!" He roars and feels as Brooke's restraining hands pull him back. He runs a trembling hand through his grown out flaxen hair. Focusing on breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth just to keep himself from going insane.

He wants his mom.

"I'm going in" he declares almost deliriously starting towards the building but he only makes it a couple steps before he is yanked back by strong arms and he turna wildly ready to punch the person.

He is met with the sable brown eyes of his uncle Keith and as if conjuring her up his mother. He wants to cry and scream all at once but it comes out in the form of a desperate sob. And he doesn't care how he looks to everyone else, hell at this point he doesn't care if people are scribbling about him on the toilet walls - _Lucas Scott is a big cry baby._

"Keith I gotta go in...you have to let me go in she's in there" he pleads attempting again to go back towards the school but Keith grabs him and begins dragging him a safe distance away.

He fights with everything he has, insane with the thought that no one is gonna let him into that school even if he is the president himself.

"KEITH GET OFF ME!" He growls and is relieved when his uncle finally loosens his grip. He begins taking a threatening step towards Keith with gritted teeth.

"So your just gonna let her die in there?" He asks incredulously.

He can't care less how much of a scene he is causing, they don't understand. God no one understood. His attempts at telling himself that a normal friend would act like this over any other friend in a situation is futile because he knows that it transcends that. And so does everybody else.

But he is stopped by his mothers hand on his chest her blue eyes glossed up in the evident tell tail signs of tears as well.

No words are exchanged as she pulls him wordlessly down towards her into a tight embrace and he clenches his teeth together in an attempt to stop another sob from crawling its way up his throat. He clings to his mom like that of a newborn baby, his breaths sounding shallow to his own ears. And his frozen and crippled by the knowledge that every moment he stands out here, every seconds that goes by is another minute that he fails her.

"Mom...I love her..." He whispers, only loud enough for her to hear as he finally lets the dam break and the droplets finally from his irritated tear ducts.

"I know" she utters to him, rubbing his back in a soothing manner.

"I know"

* * *

 **Authors Note: I've had this story just chilling in my documents for a while so I decided that I would post it for you guys. As for whether I continue it that is up to you, this has no reflection to my life whatsoever, I've never been shot and I hope not to be in the future. This story will probably be put on the back burner and I will update where I can but I wanna focus more on With Wreaths Of Withered Flowers right now because its sort of a top priority for me. Pop me a review and tell me what you think?**

 **Thanks**.


	2. Chapter 2

_2_ _Corinthians Chapter 12_

 _I knew a man in Christ above fourteen years ago, (whether in the body, I cannot tell; or whether out of the body, I cannot tell: God knoweth;) such a one was caught up to the third heaven._

How does one even begin to explain, being caught in between two astral planes at once. Not being able to physically get back into their body until they have seen what God has wanted them to see. Leaving them with the ultimatum of whether to stay or to go.

A loud piercing stream of light explodes in her face, blinding her by its brightness. The light is killing her, it is frying her howling brains, but she doesn't let it win. Too late for that now. The resonating of an explosive cry is what forces her hazy eyes to flutter open, that same ringing pounding in her ears like an unbearable screech of car tires.

Where is she?

What is going on?

Why has the all consuming tearing pain she has been feeling for the past twenty five minutes suddenly disappeared when it had been there for what only seemed like a mere second ago. It had been the most distinct and excruciating thing she has ever experienced in her seventeen years walking this earth and now it is just gone leaving her with a feeling of utter solace. The image of what she deems to be the beleaguered hallway is a blur.

She tries in vain to get back her focus, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to blink away the temporary ablepsia that is deceiving her at this moment in time. The whole nine yards.

When her eyes finally adjust she takes note of how eerie the hallway looks. It is like being trapped in a Stephen King horror novel the brilliant bursts of color it once possessed has been sucked dry and all that is left in its wake is something ugly and bleak. Surreal if you will.

Her hands moves to feel where the pain was previously fermenting but she feels none, in fact she doesn't feel anything. She can't feel the touch of her palms running over herself or the cool summer breeze that was blowing in from outside earlier. The knowledge of that fact begins to send her into a frenzied state of panic, her breaths beginning to come in shallow freaked out pants.

Hauling herself to her feet with great effort, she glances around her surroundings and walks towards the shattered glass door, she sees a few dark red beads dotting the linoleum and it only grows bigger until she stops before she steps in the river of rubies

Then she sees something that makes her rapid breathing stop mid-gasp. She straightens up trying not to retch at the sight. She wants to look away, needs to tear her eyes away, but she can not. Lying in a pool of blood behind the obliterated door is...her seemingly lifeless remains.

 _"This is a dream, th...that's all it is I'm dreaming"_ she mentally tells herself, as her terror mounts. But somehow even she knows that is a denial of the following truth.

Her feet begin to slowly approach her crippled form. No footsteps. Why can't she hear her footsteps? It feels like a dream within a dream and she wants to wake up. She is encircled by blood; a fountain of it pouring out around her. Her usually tawny skin, an awful milky pale and supposedly deceased along with beads of cold sweat at rest on her pale forehead. The blood is brilliant against her white skin.

Immediate shock sets in and she starts to shiver.

Her hands fly to her head, yanking at her straightened sandy hair like mad. This isn't happening, this can't be real. If she clicks her fingers she'll wake up and find herself in her bed thankful that it was all just some fucked up nightmare that she could forget about. Hell she'll laugh at it...right?

It has to be, because how is this possible?

She drops to her knees a wail tearing its way out of her throat. And begins pounding her fists into the hard floor, screaming but yet she still feels nothing. The only thing she feels really is simply seizing to exist.

She reaches out a hand to touch the shell that she has left behind but her hand goes straight through herself. So what does this mean now? Is she a ghost or something? She has never believed in ghosts. "Everybody just shut up, shut the hell up ok" she knew she heard something before and god how she knows that voice all too well, it was the cause of her waking up so suddenly. Waking up like this...Her eyes trail of to the closed door at the end of the doorway and she rises to her feet.

Her body is moving before she can even think and then she breaks into a run. Peyton ran in what felt like slow motion. She sees one of her own feet, clad in a brand new pair of sneakers, stride out and clop down. Then it disappeared behind her as the other foot strode out. All slow, slow. Like watching the baseball replay of a person trying to steal second.

Coming to a halt when she reaches the door. From where she stands, she can see Nathan, Skills, Rachel, Mouth, Marcus and a few other students she doesn't know the names of stood backed up against the back wall, their expressions almost identical. The perfect image of consternation.

She would've entered if she could but all she can do is watch from the sidelines as this misunderstood delinquent waves a pistol in all her friends faces.

"Jimmy please just let us go, you haven't hurt anybody so they can't arrest you. The most you'll get is a penalty" Mouth tries desperately to talk his friend down. Somebody has to.

Deep down they all know the truth he is going down for this whether he has hurt anybody or not and he has hurt somebody...that somebody is her. "Bull I've seen what they do to guys like me in there" Jimmy is a mess, fixated on the belief that what he is doing is the right thing.

"No Jimmy your wrong ok, your not gonna go to jail. You haven't done anything wrong, they'll put it down as some sort of breakdown. I mean you didn't hurt anyone right?" This time it is Rachel who speaks, her voice trembling and face stained with dried mascara.

Peyton's eyes glance expectantly to Jimmy who for a brief moment has a flicker of regret and mere terror in his coppery eyes.

"Right?" Rachel repeats a little louder, her voice bordering hysteria. Jimmy stands shock still, chewing on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. She can almost see him walking through his actions, as if trying to remember. He taps the gun to his forehead almost manically, letting out a quivering puff, he looks towards Rachel with scared eyes before choking out "I don't know".

"Jesus Jimmy" Nathan chortles with false humor, trying his best to take some of the heaviness out of the situation. But she loathes how she can hear the uneasiness laced within his gruff voice, she has never seen Nathan so scared in her life. "I don't know" he repeats sinking down to the floor and cradling his head in his hands. The others watched him carefully, no doubt anticipating his next move.

The frail chubby boy glanced up at all of them with dazed, wonderful eyes and Peyton can't tear her eyes away from the scene for the life of her.

"I'm so scared" he freely admits as his bottom lip begins to tremble, always a tell tale sign of the tears that would soon be following. "We know man, but this isn't the answer dog" Skill tries, not doing himself any justice in hiding the crack in his voice. No one can hide now, everyone who has ever carried themselves in such a way that no one had dared to mess with them, everyone who had ever shoved a kid into a locker or gave them a swirly or publicly humiliated anyone is now being revealed as the insecure people that they were and she can tell that, that was exactly what Jimmy's intentions had been.

"No...no you don't know, if you knew then you would've been there when my dad left me to get my ass kicked on the quad or when I hadn't been in school for months and nobody noticed" Jimmy cries waving the gun, frantically. "So this about popularity" Marcus finally spits out after having been quiet throughout the whole altercation, she watched as Jimmy's eyes flicker with hatred burning with so much flare she is surprised Marcus doesn't burst into twisting orange-red petals of fire, and then he is down on the floor before the gunshot reaches her ears. She rears back, her hands flying to her ears. She thinks she would be used to the sound by now.

"IT'S BECAUSE I'M FUCKING TIRED OF IT ALL!" He squawks his voice breaking with distress. It is a enough to shut the entire room up - a noise that heralds death and destruction. It broke the air in stark contrast to the voice of the birds chirping in the morning.

Rachel screams at the top of her lungs, and begins to sob uncontrollably covering her eyes from Marcus' bleeding form, they all watched in a trance of horror as he gags and choked on his blood to overcome with distress, something now all of them will have to live with on their consciences for the rest of their lives.

The girl who has been pale and sweating in the back corner, starts yelling bloody murder. Hyperventilating, and clutching her chest for dear life.

"YOU KILLED HIM, YOU KILLED HIM!" she shrieks over and over again, Peyton steps back from the door on the verge of throwing up, this day just went from bad to worse. First her, now Marcus. She sunk down the lockers opposite from where the door was, her own cries starting to wrench there way out of her throat.

She looks around her surrounding half expecting Marcus to appear next to her and realize that he is gone too but he never does come. Why is she the only one?

Her attention is grabbed when she sees members of the SWAT team creep through the front entrance and start signalling various orders at each other. Relief begins to seep through her but it is short lived when she notices a team member move towards her body. She scrambles from her place at the locker and bolts towards the tall dark swat guy who i checking her body over. "Get away from me" she tries to shout but it comes out more as a whisper, the man makes no inclination that he hears her which tells her all that she needs to know.

"She's alive but barely, her pulse is faint" she catches onto him breath out to one of his team mates. What? how can she possibly have a pulse, she is dead isn't she? if she isn't dead then what the hell is she, how can she see everything that is happening around her yet be outside of her meat suit?

The rest is a blur, she watches as they run and burst into the classroom leaving the man who has been looming over her to tend to her. And it is then another gunshot splits the air and she hears the chief at the front of his squad bark into his Motorola talker that the shooter has committed suicide and that they are about to escort the rest of the hostages out.

The man also says that there has been one casualty and there is a girl who was critical in need of medical attention who they will be bringing out. That girl is her.

She sees the figures of the students begin to emerge out the room before they actually come into her line of vision and her breath catches in her throat. All their attention begin to draw to her crippled figure on the floor, gasps and sobs coming from them when their eyes captured the mess that is her and then she sees Nathan lunge forward screaming her name but he is held back by one of the police force.

"THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND SHE NEEDS ME!" he chokes out as they pushed him off towards the exit, they can't do this, not to him. Not to Nathan, she knows how it felt wanting to be there for somebody and being completely powerless, oh how she knows that feeling all too well. He protests the entire way they lead him out the door.

Her eyes dart back down to the bloody mess before her as the man loops one of his arms under her knees and pulls her up carefully, nestling her safely against his chest. She watches in horror as her head lurches backwards and her arm drops lifelessly.

"I've got ya kid, I've got ya" he coes and she feels her patience reach boiling point.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR GET ME OUT OF HERE!" she screams at the man, and like he has just heard her he begins moving to the exit, she follows close behind him her breathing labored.

What does this mean for her, what happens now? Is she going to die?

* * *

 **Authors Note: There is the update guys, I know it's different but I didn't want to take the cliche route. I was inspired with this chapter when I watched Patrick Swayze's Ghost the other week and like when Lucas had his OBE after his heart attack the same thing is happening to Peyton. I hope it was up to your standards and there is much more to come. Thank you for previous reviews.**

 **Thanks.**


	3. Chapter 3

Tuesdays not the kind of day you expect your life to change for ever. That feels like a job for Friday, Saturday - a flashier, shinier day that has surprise sprinkled over its surface like hundreds and thousands. This is by the far the most fucked up Tuesday Peyton Sawyer has ever encountered, she follows after the man in uniform a shell of herself and quite literally in her very own custom made hell.

If she can pinched herself to wake up she would've done it a long time ago, but she knows that the situation she is in right now is way beyond her understanding, as well as way beyond her control. It is like she was living a day in the life of Sam Wheat from Ghost, yeah that is exactly it. Minus the being dead part she is experiencing everything that Sam went through which means maybe she will be able to reconnect with her body again soon enough.

"If" the word taunts her making her loose more hope with the passing of every second, she finds herself squinting once she is met with the blinding beam of light from the outside world. Which is weird considering her current situation, she hears the screams before she sees the scene. The sounds of police sirens, a second joining the first then a third.

When her hazy vision finally comes to, she catches sight of her surroundings and it appalls and shocks her all at the same time.

Never in her life has she came across such a scene as devasting, and as horrible as the one she is witnessing now. It is as though the events before her have slowed down to an excruciating pace and is now moving in slow motion. Her hand flies to her chest and she is in a state of paralysis, eyes round with shock. She prays she can wake up.

There is nothing more she wants to do in that moment than turn her head away from the awful chaos that is unfolding before her eyes.

To make all the crying and the wailing stop. To turn it off, but it wasn't going to go away this is something all of them will carry with them for the rest of their lives. She roams her eyes around for a familiar face, anyone and her breath hitches when they settle on the ones she knows are closest to her.

They haven't caught sight of the commotion yet, all too wrapped up in their relief that their friends and family are safe.

Raising their heads to try and get a look at what has the crowd so riled up but not being able to get a good look. It is Nathan who grasped her attention, she can see him trying to tell the others something, that something is involving her. But he is to worked up to get a good sentence out and all that was coming from his mouth is harsh sobs, Haley is trying in vain to try and soothe her distressed husband but her attempts were futile. Her eyes begin to well again, she has never seen Nathan like this, his always been so strong.

His always be the matyr.

Rachel sits on the concrete, her normally gleaming eyes far off and haunted, her hands are shaking like she is having crack withdrawal or something major like that ( _only instrument this bitch ever played was the skinflute,_ Peyton thought) and Mouth and Skills are no where to be seen, no doubt nestled safely into the arms of their own parents.

Another terrified shriek rips through the cloudy air and this time she recognises who it belongs to because it belongs to her best friend.

Brooke.

Almost on cue tears spring to her eyes and that is when she hears the shout of the voice that she has wanted to hear from the moment her body hit that hard hallway floor. He cries out her name over and over again like some sort of prayer and before she knows it he has tore from the embrace of his mother and is hurtling like a man posessed towards where she dangles lifelessly from the S.W.A.T members arms. "LUCAS STOP!" she hears Keith cry who is hot on his heels. But he is frantic, "Lucas it's ok i''m gonna be fine" she tries to pipe up momentarily forgetting that it falls on deaf ears.

"PEYTON!" he blubbers somewhat in a trance as he extends an arm so that he can touch her but another S.W.A.T member steps into his line of vision, pushing him a safe distance away from her and that's when he loses it. She doesn't think she had ever seen Lucas so in pain his full, sensual lips open, his expression a cross between fury and grief.

Beads of water erupts from his electric blue eyes and once they start they don't stop, she is almost certain he is just about ready to fight his way to get to her or just about ready to crack up all together. It is torture to see him like this, she wasn't aware of how much he cared about her so much. When he was with her he only ever spoke about Brooke and as much as it sucked she'd listen because she just wanted to spend time with him.

But on the other hand the sight of her in itself is enough to fuck up anyone who witnesses it. Blood, lots of it practically staining a trail on the floor from where they have carried her from, melting into the concrete like drying hot tar.

Peyton finds herself looking back over to her friends who are all watching the exchange between the S.W.A.T member and Lucas and then to Brooke who seems to be having her own heated battle with a police officer who is no doubt telling her to stay behind the yellow tape. She watches as Brooke flails her arms wildly pointing over to the ambulance which is where she resides.

"No you don't understand that's..." She turns her attention back to Luke. And she doesn't miss the way his words get caught in his throat from the excruciating emotions twisting inside of him and Peyton practically feels her heart rip quite torturously in her chest. She watches on in horror as they lay her on an awaiting gurney and the paper white sheets start soaking up the blood almost immediately, just like toilet paper, the blood is amazing against it. Her eyes flitter from a emotionally broken down Lucas to her body not quite sure where to look anymore. God she wishes he doesn't have to see her like this, she never wanted this for this for him, god she never wanted this for anyone.

"I'M NOT LEAVING HER!" Lucas roars over the commotion still struggling in Keith's persistent grip. He looks just about ready to turn around and spark his uncle one in the face.

"Look son we are gonna need you step back and calm down. This girl is in desperate need of medical attention she's critical. If we don't get her to the hospital she is going to die, we can't let you in the ambulance unless you are immediate family" she watches with baited breath waiting to see what Lucas will do next but just as he opened his mouth to speak, his Uncle Keith beats him to the punch.

"She's my god daughter I'm the only legal guardian for her for the time being, both her mothers are dead and her father is away working on a dredging boat. We are all she has" Lucas looked to his uncle with brief awe and adoration.

But everyone's attention is garnered by her body, Peyton thought she was out, no doubt all of them did but she is shivering all over, her hands tremble as though she is about to play something complex on the piano.

Then her legs begin to crash up and down, and her arms follow suit. It looks like she is trying to swim away from them or something. She is having a goddamn seizure, for Christ sakes her body is dying. Its not the dramatic type either, but simply trembling and its scary to watch.

She wants to be sick.

This isn't happening, this can't be happening.

"PEYTON!" Lucas sqwuaks his normally cool and collected voice breaking much like her heart as he pitches forward trying to get to her. But is once again grabbes back by Keith, he fights with everything then. Blinded by rage and pain. Then as she voids herself: "LET ME GO KEITH!" He half chokes half shouts out, thrashing violently. In any other situation he could've laid his Uncle out by now but he is to weak to try anything of the sort.

"What's happening? Is she ok? Tell me what's happening dammit!" Her head is bobbing up and down. Repeatedly smacking the cushioned surface of the gurney, like one of those camel jockeys saluting Allah.

She begins to make a growling noise. It is surprisingly loud. "SHE'S CODING! WE NEED TO GET HER TO THE HOSPITAL, NOW LET US DO OUR JOBS SIR!" a paramedic that seems to come out of no where catawaulls, she watches as Lucas looks on long since having stopped fretting, the fight seeming to have left him high and dry.

The look in his eyes is something she has never seen before and will probably be going no where in a hurry. His eyes look delirious, almost like he has gone into complete utter denial and shock but yet he just can't tear his eyes away. And the gravity of the situation she can tell is hitting it home very hard. "I'm gonna go with her Lucas, I'll will make sure to call you as soon as they have her at the hospital" Keith said finally letting go off Lucas but he stands motionless his gaze still lingering on her trembling form.

She watches them wheel her towards the ambulance and begin loading her in and just as Keith is about to follow that is when Lucas grips his Uncles arm. His eyes wide with what she can only describe as crippling horror and utter determination.

"Make sure they keep her alive Keith because if she...please just make them do something" He cuts himself of not able to finish the sentence if he wants to. She watches Keith put a hand on Lucas's shoulder in attempt to soothe the terrified teenager before him. But nothing helps.

Unbeknown to him Peyton stands next to him watching along with him as the ambulance drives off, no doubt the same thought shooting through both their minds.

She is not ready for what he does next, his legs give out and he quite literally drops to the floor like a stack of knocked over cards. But he doesn't cry, even though he looks like he wants too. She can hear Brooke shouting his name and she is sure he can too but he just chooses to ignore it.

Peyton wishes she can hold his hand, hug him, hell even kiss him anything to make his pain stop.

But she can't. And she's not sure she'll ever be able to again.

They both know that if she dies, then Lucas won't come back from it. And she most definitely won't either. Maybe she was right before, maybe this is a dream.

A long awful, surreal dream. But if it is why can't she wake up?

* * *

 **Author Note: Thank you for all previous reviews! I have updated chapter 3 sorry if its a little short. I've just started college and things have been rather hectic. You can expect an update for With Wreaths of Withered Flowers somete this week. Also I promise there will be much longer chapters in the future.**

 **Thank you.**


	4. Chapter 4

Fear is a strange thing. On one hand it has the ability to make you stronger if the circumstances are just right. Giving you the strength and clarity of mind to overcome whatever peril you happen to find yourself in. On the other hand, it has the frightening ability to render the sufferer into a frozen vegetative state _._ Leaving you in control of nothing more than the blinking of your eyes and the sucking in of short, shallow breaths.

That is exactly the pinpoint feeling that Lucas feels. He feels like he could throw up, and believe it his been close to doing just that since he saw her get carried out of that building. They've been waiting at the hospital for hours, but have not had a speck of information about her condition, apart from when his Uncle Keith had emerged covered in what they all knew was her blood. That in itself had pretty much told them all that they needed to know.

Lucas had collapsed down against a nearby wall after that for the sight had been too much for his eyes to bear and so he had remained sitting there for the better part of the six hours, the only time he got up being to walk back and forth the corridor in almost frenzied panicked motion.

While the others waited and prayed for some sort of miracle. For Peyton to come back to them.

His mom is yet to make the phone call to Larry but they all know that he won't be able to get off the boat for another two weeks and he will be terrified and powerless to be by his daughter's side. If she survives that is. It'll crush them all if she doesn't.

Especially him and himself and probably Brooke too. Those three would definitely take it the hardest.

Lucas's thoughts can't stop racing and he can't catch a single one of them. His long past the stage of believing this to be some sort of awful unbearable dream, hell his even tried pinching himself a few times to see if he can wake up. But it won't work and he knows that know.

Whatever this is, its worse than a nightmare, or some cruel twist of fate and his settling for calling it hell. Because it is, he feels absolutely helpless and with every second that passes by that Peyton is lying on an operating table possibly dying, so do the seconds that he retreats farther and farther into himself.

He shoots up from his spot on the floor and exhales a shaky breath, raking a hand through his short blond hair. Then sets his hands on his hips for leverage.

It's the waiting, the not knowing that is putting him and everyone else under this intense crushing weight of distressed fear. And the longer they take, the more and more he slips into denial that he may have to prepare himself for the worst. There are marks on the hospital floor from where the rubber from his shoes has been worn out due to his excessive pacing. He tries various ways to calm himself but his hands are shaking so bad and his thoughts are racing so bad that he can't even do that.

"Lucas please sit down" comes Karen's voice. As she regards her frantic son, but he won't, he can't. His feelings for the curly headed goldilocks that his pushed down for the better part of the year are starting to become apparent, and he knows he owes it to Brooke to be honest but something is stopping him. Perhaps fear.

Deep down he knows that she knows he will always love Peyton. That shes apart of him, apart of his heart and soul. That it's the sort of love so strong that nobody can come between it, but she's too blinded by her love for him that she can't bring herself to accept it. And for that she is the obstacle standing in the way of him and Peyton being together.

He can't make himself move to console her because his hurting and worrying one million times worse. And every time he looks at his girlfriend all he sees is Peyton because she's like a sister to her and people will always make that connection. Brooke Davis the best friend of gunshot victim, the gunshot victim that died.

He shakes his head to try and rid the awful thought that seems to be imprinted into his mind out. And leans against the wall again for support, in fear that he'll pass out if he doesn't.

"How long is it going to take?" he whispers to himself almost deliriously and it takes him a brief moment to conceal that his just spoken his internal thoughts out loud.

"It'll take as long as it needs to son" his Uncle's voice sounded through the morbid corridor. And he has to consider how true that statement is. What if she never comes out?

His silent for a moment because he generally has nothing to say, the words seem stuck in his throat and then their flowing out his mouth without warning.

"You know I said I'd meet her this morning" he murmurs and a clearing of his throat is quick to follow because that painful knot is seemingly coming back to haunt him.

"Luke don't do this to yourself" Haley pipes up, her voice sounding nothing at all like her own.

"No I...If Peyton..." He stumbles over each word until his finally cut off by a firm and determined voice.

"Stop it. She's going to be fine, the doctors are doing everything that they can. My best friend is a fighter and she is going to be fine" Brooke who has remained quite since they arrived, finally finds her voice. But as soon as it comes its gone again and she's once again reduced to the sobbing mess she had been previously.

"Your damn right she is, right Nathan?" Haley probes, knudging his brother who looks white with torment.

And if Nathan's this messed up then he knows there's a problem because Nathan never gets this emotionally fucked up unless its serious or related to Haley. Nathan says nothing but his blue eyes the twins to his eyes, snap to his. And they hold a watery glazed over edge much similar to the way his do, it's like looking into a mirror.

The suspense is beginning to kill Lucas and come to think of it, it has been killing him since he got here. The idea of the girl he loves being sliced open and poked and prodded with anesthestic is making him sick and he knows its all being done in attempt to save her life but he feels like his letting them murder her or something.

He can't contain his frustration any longer and before he knows it the drugs cart that has been sitting motionlessly in the corner is on the floor and all the contents are spilt out.

Syringes.

Medicine.

Pills.

The whole goddamn package. "LUCAS!" He hears a voice scold, but at this moment he can't care less who the hell it belongs too. He can't even imagine what he looks like right now, he must look flaming mad. Like his lost his mind, what if he has lost his mind?

Maybe his finally cracked.

Maybe now he is really, for real crazy.

Perhaps this impulsive need to always save Peyton has finally gotten to him. A neeky looking male nurse walks past but he knows theres no point in embarrassing himself any further with questions he won't get the answer to. All the other nurses have already turned him away when his tried to get information on her condition and his sure this time won't be any different.

"Smashing the place up isn't going to help" Haley tells him and it does nothing more than add fire to the fuel that is burning inside his stomach.

"Don't tell me what to do Haley, not at a time like this"

"Lucas your scaring us"

"WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSE TO DO HUH PEYTON IS DYING!" He roars, so loud in fact that attention begins to be drawn to them by the other people who are occupying this hell hole. And it takes him a moment to realize what he has just said and his shocked himself as well as the others into silence.

He places a trembling palm over his mouth, then removes it to tug at his suddenly very hot shirt. God why is it so fucking hot up in here?

"Lucas you can't think like that"

"Well what else am I suppose to think. God there was...so much blood"

"Look son, the doctors will do everything that they can to give Peyton what she needs. I'm not gonna beat around the bush, its bad. Its really bad but that young girl has so much to live for and she's gonna come back to us" Keith reassuring words mean nothing to him, his never been a big fan of being belittled by adults especially when his halfway to being one himself.

His eyes draw down to his uncle's blood stained shirt and bile pushes its way up his throat.

For the second time in the last three minutes his eyes flit over to his silent younger brother, who looks like his about to collapse at any second.

"Why didn't you go back for her?" He finds the words tumbling from his mouth before the thought to say them even reach his brain, and he fully expects that familiar pang of guilt at the cruel words his just spoken to follow but it doesn't come.

Nathan looks as the though all the air has just been knocked right out of his lungs and if he hadn't gotten a reaction out of him before he most certainly was going to get one now.

"What are you saying...you blame me for this?" He asks incredulously, his normally warm eyes taking on a cold icy stare. Lucas feels himself rear back a bit, but its too late the damage has been done. No backing out now.

Truth is his still trying to figure that question out. He blames everyone, he blames that bastard Jimmy Edwards who he once considered to be a close friend of his for pulling the trigger, he blames Nathan for not going back for her, he blames Brooke for being her usual petty, jealous self...but most of all he blames himself because yet again he chose the wrong friend and his painfully aware of that now.

He really needs to get out of here before he says something, that'll he'll regret later. But the words just keep coming up his throat like vomit and his on a roll now.

"YOU LEFT HER!" he all but screams, his hand shooting out to grab the cardboard cup full of cold coffee and before he knows it the ugly brown content is seeping down the wall.

"Lucas you can't blame Nathan for this" Haley hisses, staring at her best friend like she doesn't recognize the boy standing in front of her and truth be told his not sure he can say he knows who this person is either.

"Why are you defending someone that left his best friend to die, i have every right to blame him, his the one who didn't go back for her" he spits the words out like there poison and for a second he feels a brief sense of victory.

"Lucas" Brooke gasps not quite believing how unreasonable he is being right now.

"OH YEAH WELL I DIDN'T EXACTLY SEE YOU THERE EITHER, IS THIS WHAT THIS IS ABOUT LUKE YOU FEEL GUILTY CAUSE YOU COULDN'T SAVE HER THIS TIME?" Suddenly he doesn't feel so well and he realizes that to some extent Nathan is right. He didn't go back in...he practically signed her death sentence. He can't stand the thought of it, and instantly his eyes are stinging rather uncomfortably.

"SHUT UP!" He shouts and he swears his face has turned an unhealthy kind of red.

"What is the truth to much for you to handle? your the one who left her to die because you didn't have the balls to go in and get her. Your the one who couldn't protect her, you wasn't there for her and you never have been. I always have. All you've done since you and Brooke got together is put her on the back burner and left her to stand in your fucking dust every single time" There's no stopping Nathan now, once he starts he can't stop and Lucas feels alarm bells begin to go off in his head signalling that his brother is indeed heading down a dangerous path.

"Don't you dare bring me and Lucas's relationship into this" Brooke warns, her raspy voice far from even.

"Oh Jesus Brooke are you that blind that you can't see that your boyfriend is in love with your best friend" Nathan calls it and his going in deep now. Everyone knows it, the only person who doesn't seem to is Lucas and its about time he finally accepted it.

Brooke blinks excessively for a couple seconds but no one misses the tears that make their way down her cheeks before she's swiping at them harshly. She raises a shaky finger and points it at Nathan her lips forming into a thin line of lividity and if Lucas thought he'd seen his girlfriend on a rage before then he had only seen a snippet and that was what she wanted him to see.

"Your out of order" she seethes through gritted teeth her normally impish green eyes flashing to a dangerous gleam.

"Ok everyone just needs to calm down, ok let's just all cope" Karen chimes in her eyes pleading with her sons to stop the madness he has created. But the next words that Nathan goads has him flipping out and unable to stop himself even if he wants to.

"IT SHOULD'VE BEEN YOU!" He yells and the words rip through Lucas's being like a bullet right between the eyes. Before he can get another word in Lucas's fist has swung out and made it across his cheek, and Nathan is so caught of guard that he quite literally gets knocked off his feet.

"LUCAS SCOTT YOU CALM DOWN RIGHT NOW" His mother's admonish does nothing but farther irritate him and his sick of hearing his name. Right now his sick at the fact that his even alive. He turns around to leave because he needs air, so he can breath.

Maybe to even clear his conscience but he only makes it as far as the vending machine when he feels an overpowering weight on his back that sends him tumbling to the floor. And then his being flipped over and met with the pepper red face of his fuming kid brother.

The two are at full brawl in a matter of seconds.

"LUCAS, NATHAN STOP IT" Haley bawls as the two girls run to tear apart their significant others and the two people who should care about each other the most.

In the end its Keith who succeeds in separating the two with the help of Karen. He has to admit his mom's stronger than anyone gives her credit for. Lucas stumbles away from his uncle his eyes shining with tears and his chest heaving with pure through and through white hot rage.

And when Lucas breaks Keith gaze to glare at Nathan, they stare at one another so hard that Lucas starts to think one of them will drop dead any second now. Their eyes hold equally the same hate and he swears it's like junior year all over again.

He can't take it, the guilt, his carelessness and his humanity alone is killing him and he needs time to think. But that would be running away again would it not? And Peyton deserves so much better.

His feet begin walking away from the little group before he can think about it and he hears his name being called but he doesn't stop. Not by a long shot. He sees Mouth and Skills on his way to the exit coming in and when they try to ask him on information about Peyton he shoves past them angrily.

The fresh air hits him like a slap in the face and he doesn't think his ever been more grateful for it. His feet take him to the nearest side wall, away from the view of other people and he leans against the wall before his legs give out.

He doesn't know how long he sits there, and when he begins to feels water dropping onto his hand he looks up at the sky expecting to see rain, it doesn't take him long to realise that his indeed crying.

And then he can't stop and the tears just keep coming, followed by harsh sobs that shake his being violently and he doesn't think he has ever cried so hard in his life.

It's a blessing and a curse.

They'll be coming soon, all of them. the Reporters, the Psychologists, the Police, the Analysts and "the so called experts" to try and make sense of all this. But they never will because no one will fully understand why except for the shooter himself.

He hears the scuff of shoes sound against the small rocks and his attention is forced in the direction of who it could be. There stands Keith his face an ugly sickly pale shade and he feels his heart drop right down into his stomach.

He thinks he might even piss his pants.

"No" is all that he can simply choke out.

* * *

 **Authors Note: Chapter 4 is up and ready for you to read sorry it took so long, so don't hate me for the cliff hanger to much guys but I just thought I'd leave you with that because this story is genre is suspense and drama lol. Is Peyton ok? Is she dead? You'll have to read on to find out. Thanks for any previous reviews and for reading. Have a great week happy Monday!**

 **Thanks.**


End file.
